Longing
by Book.Wretched
Summary: A fluffy little Romitri one-shot that takes place after Last Sacrifice. Rose tries to ignore her pain while Dimitri's away. Who better to comfort her than the Russian god himself?


It's easy not to miss him most of the time. I have work to keep me busy, and friends to keep me company. Putting in some extra hours at the gym takes care of those boisterous physical cravings, then there's always junk food to soothe my heart when it does ache. And for the few things that donuts can't fix, bacon definitely can.

When all else fails, alcohol steps in.

I sit down at the bar, immersing myself in the pulsing shafts of light that dance through the gloom around me to the timing of vibrating bass. The music pumps through my ears at full volume, snagging my gloomy thoughts and whisking them into the whirlpool of moving bodies on the dance floor. This is the place to be if you don't want to hear yourself think.

"What can I get you?" yells the attractive bartender, leaning forward to make himself heard above the rowdy patronage.

"Brandy and coke," I shout in return, and he nods, turning away to fix my drink.

"Here you go, gorgeous."

When I pay him without reacting to his line, he shrugs it off and turns to another customer. I sip the sadly diluted alcohol through my straw.

Of course, vodka would be a far more effective means to attaining the level of numbness that I set out to achieve, but it has far too many memories attached. More pain is not what I need right now.

"Can I buy you another one?"

I look down at my drink, surprised to find that the polished wood of the bar is visible beneath the empty glass bottom.

"So how about it?" asks the insanely good looking Moroi who's seated himself next to me. His amber eyes sparkle suggestively in a passing wave of light, but I can't help feeling that he's several inches too short.

Nevertheless, and possibly due to the speed that I consumed my last beverage, I find myself smiling coyly back at him.

"Yeah, sure. And can I get one a little stronger?"

His mouth quirks. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

He holds out an arm to attract the bartender's attention, using the motion as an excuse to draw his barstool closer to my own. His skin is warm when he hands me my drink, allowing our fingers to brush together for far longer than necessary.

"So what's your name?"

I take a long pull from my glass, pleased to find that I can actually taste the brandy this time, before replying.

"You can call me Rose. How about you?"

"Daniel. Do you stay around here, Rose?"

"Yeah," I smile. "I have a job in the palace."

"Woah, nice. You wanna dance?"

I really don't want to dance with him, but when I drain the rest of my drink, I find that it disagrees with me.

"Sure."

He grins.

When I stand, I have to use his arm to steady myself. It's challenging to walk straight as he leads me into the throng of people. The nice thing about a packed dance floor is that you don't actually have to support your weight, especially with an enthusiastic partner.

We dance for a couple of songs and I lose myself in the rhythm. The alcohol sings through my veins and I sway mindlessly to the beat, letting instinct take over. I revel in the feeling of the hands on my hips and shoulders.

"You want to take this somewhere else?"

Daniel's voice in my ear snaps me out of my daze. His breath tickles my skin in the right way, sure. But his voice is unremarkable, his accent bland and American like my own. Suddenly I feel sick.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I tell him over my shoulder as I move through the crowd, trying to locate the exit.

The air reeks of sweat, and the swaying bodies disorientate my liquor-softened brain. Finally I spot the sign through the people, pushing my way through the doors to be greeted by fresh air and freedom. The sun creeps across the sky as I make my way back to an empty apartment.

I don't bother to flip on the lights when I walk in, simply kicking off my shoes and curling up beneath the covers.

Most of the time, it's easy not to miss him. I fill my time with other things, to distract myself from the pain of knowing he's a thousand miles away. I wake up, eat breakfast and go about my ordinary routine, pretending that I don't need him here with me. But at night, when my bed is cold and I'm all alone with my miserable thoughts, I can't pretend.

Silently, I slip out of bed and feel my way towards the bathroom. When I flip the switch, the light gleams off the white tiles. They're cold under my bare feet as I cross the room and wrench aside the door of the cabinet.

Stretching to the extent of my reach, I'm rewarded by the feeling of a small bottle in my fingers. I clasp it tight, carrying my treasure back with me to bed.

Only once I'm lying against my pillows do I unscrew the cap. The scent envelops me in a cloud of memories. Tears run down my smile as I apply a few drops to my skin, comforted by the familiar aroma. I fall asleep with my wrist pressed to my nose, a guarantee of bittersweet dreams.

"Roza?"

I open my eyes to darkness, and for a minute I'm certain that I dreamed his voice. But then his arms wrap around me and he buries his face in my hair.

I twist myself around in the circle of his embrace so that I'm facing him. My hands explore his features in the darkness.

"What are you doing here?" I smile.

"I needed to see you."

I sigh contentedly, snuggling into his chest. "I'm glad."

His arms constrict around me, pressing me to him. But after a moment they go slack.

"Have you been drinking?" There's a frown in his voice.

"I missed you too much," I whisper.

He doesn't reply. Instead, he tightens his embrace once more, bringing my palm to his face. The kiss that he presses into the centre of my skin is an apology, and a sign that he understands. But once more, I feel the corners of his mouth pull down.

"Is that my cologne?"

I retract my hand, replacing it with my lips. We kiss for a perfect moment before I draw away.

"Like I said, I missed you too much."

He pulls my mouth back to his and we allow our actions to communicate our feelings. Our bodies remember perfectly how we fit together; complete.

Yes, it's hard not to miss him when he's away. But the longing always makes our reunion so much sweeter.

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Author's Note

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 **Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to favourite and review. And if you're waiting for an update on my other fic, I apologise. This one shot is kind of like my sacrifice to the writing gods, in order to appease their anger and remove my terrible writer's block. My brain was just screaming _WRITE SOMETHING! ANYTHING!_ and so I obeyed. **

**If you are not waiting for an update on my other fic because you just thought this one looked cool when you stumbled upon it, I also apologise for wasting your time by making you read that when it doesn't really concern you.**


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